


Can You Save Me From Myself?

by Bre95611



Series: Saving Grace [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Demon! Dean - Freeform, Demon!Dean, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Legacy!Castiel, Legacy!Gabriel, Legacy!Sam Winchester, M/M, Mark of Cain! Dean, Men of Letters Bunker, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Phone Sex, will add more tags as I write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25088173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre95611/pseuds/Bre95611
Summary: Dean is in the wind, phone number disconnected, and actually trying to stay hidden from Castiel.Cas knows Dean wants to be saved, somewhere deep down, somewhere buried beneath the uncertain rage of the Mark of Cain.It's just an issue of convincing him of that fact.Now that they have the name of the person that murdered their parents, that has been systematically slaughtering Men of Letters legacies for decades, they just have to find her. But as Dean and Crowley continue to look for her as well, will Dean lose himself to the Mark's influence first? Or will Cas be able to save Dean from himself?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester/Gabriel
Series: Saving Grace [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802533
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After the angsty heartbreak that was the ending of Saving Grace, I thought you all might appreciate some domestic fluffy bunker life before we dive in. So here! Have some fluffy domestic bunker!

_ Cas could feel Dean’s legs wrap around him, as if they were made to fit together like this. He attached his lips to the demon’s neck in a bruising kiss, nipping his way up his jaw. He couldn’t help but thrust forward, body begging for any amount of friction. Dean’s hips pushed up in return, ripping a groan from Castiel as he felt the demon’s length hard against his own. They began to rut up against each other, tongues tangled together, hands pulling on clothes and hair, biting at every inch of exposed skin they could uncover without separating. Cas sunk his teeth into Dean’s shoulder, a muffled version of his name forced out of him as he came, the warmth of Dean beneath him too much to bear any longer. He felt the demon tremble beneath him, finding his release right after. They held onto each other until their limbs stopped shaking, until their breath had slowed. _

Castiel's eyes fluttered open slowly. He dreamt of Dean often, sometimes innocent, the two of them watching a movie together, or them on a hunt, fighting off a vamp nest. The longer he had gone without seeing him though, the less innocent they became, the two of them tangled together in various stages of undress.

He missed Dean more than he could comprehend.

Cas rose from bed, arms raised above his head in a stretch. He looked around his room at the bunker, searching for the robe he had found in the back of the closet his first morning there. Gabe called it his "dead guy robe." Cas thought it was cozy.

It had been a couple months since Gabe and Cas had begun leasing out the apartment above the bar and officially moved into the bunker full time. The facility was close enough to work that the commute was negligible, and the convenience of having uninterrupted access to the lore and weapons stored there made it more than worth it to stay there instead of just visiting in their downtime.

The domesticity of the bunker had become a safe haven for Castiel. The first few days after Dean had disappeared were...hard, to say the least. But surrounded by Sam and Gabe (and Charlie who stayed there most nights helping digitize all the Men of Letters files), he was able to pull out of the funk, a renewed fire to find Abbadon coursing through his veins. He spent his days off pouring through the records room, and every book in the library had his notes scrawled in the margins, scraps of paper stuck in between pages marking noteworthy passages. He'd made progress, but none of it mattered if he couldn't figure out where she was hiding.

On his way to the kitchen, Cas slipped on his house shoes. He poured himself a cup of coffee, happy to find someone else was already awake and had made a fresh pot. He glanced around the kitchen, finding it to be empty. He assumed it was Sam that had started the coffee; it was far more likely that he was up at the early hour as opposed to Gabe.

In between research sessions, he and Sam had been hunting together every now and again. Tensions had relaxed between them ever since they found the demon cure, since Sam realized Dean hadn't been lying. They relaxed even further once Sam realized Cas wasn't just in  _ lust  _ with Dean, since he saw the look on Cas's face the night he came back to the bunker with Dean's note in hand.

No one talked about those first few days.

Cas wasn't proud of how he acted, cycling between bouts of anger that bled into near catatonic depression. He drowned his pain in whatever liquor he found around the bunker, making a solitary trip into town to restock when he drank it all. Gabe would cook, but Cas was always adamant he wasn't hungry, much preferring his liquid diet.

It wasn't until Gabe stopped cooking that Cas realized he needed to snap out of it. Knowing his always optimistic brother had given up on him stung to say the least.

Cas found Sam in the library, hunched over a stack of files.

“You’re up early,” Cas said as he sat down across from Sam.

Sam raised his head, noticing Cas for the first time since he entered the room, too consumed by the file he was buried in. “So are you.”

Cas took a sip of his coffee. “What files are those?”

“Some personnel files. Trying to get a line on Abbadon, seeing if anyone that was in her induction group is still around, anyone that might have been possessed during or after the massacre here.” Sam flipped to the next page, grabbing a pen and scribbling something on the notepad next to him.

“Found anything yet? I have a few days off coming up. I could come with you for the interviews.” Castiel reached for a file on the top of the stack to Sam’s left, the ones Sam hadn’t looked through yet, opening it up and scanning through the names.

Sam smiled up at him, “Yeah, Cas, that sounds good. So…” Sam looked away, unable to hold the eye contact, “what, uh, what’s got you up so early? Trouble sleeping?”

Cas took a deep sip of his coffee, still not awake enough for this conversation. Ever since he finally pulled out of his funk, everyone had been handling him with kid gloves, always asking if he was okay, tip toeing around him, convinced even the slightest upset would send him spiraling once again. He hated it, but it was nice to feel how cared for he was, knowing it wasn’t just him and Gabe against the world for the first time since he lost his parents.

“I’m fine, Sam,” he responded, a slight smile on his face. He knew Sam’s concern was from a place of compassion, of caring. He couldn’t begrudge him for giving a shit.

Sam smiled in return, nodding his head once in acknowledgement before returning to his research. Castiel began scanning through the list of names once again, pulling his computer, which permanently lived on the library table, towards him. He began searching the names of everyone that had any connection to Josie Sands. Most turned up deceased, most grisly. It was easy to verify who had died in a hunt gone wrong, but there were some that essentially disappeared, dropped off the face of the earth. Whenever Cas found a case like that, he silently reached forward for the list Sam had started, adding names to it as he found them. They continued on like that until the sizable stack Sam had when Cas had first joined him was gone. Right as they finished, Sam’s head whipped up and a smile spread across his face, his eyes shining brightly. Only one thing gave Sam that look. Castiel didn’t have to lift his eyes to know who had just walked in.

“Gabriel, your timing is impeccable as always,” Cas began gathering all the files to return them to their rightful place, “We just finished all the work, so of course you choose now to grace us with your presence.”

Gabe’s laugh was boisterous, filling the whole room with its echoes. Cas felt his brother’s hand come to rest on his shoulder.

“Cassie, you know me too well. I’m the best researcher around, and I fucking  _ hate _ every second of it. Who’s ready for breakfast?” Gabe moved to the other side of the table, leaning over briefly to place a chaste kiss on Sam’s cheek, instantly staining it pink. 

The corner of Cas’s mouth turned up ever so slightly. Despite them being together for a few months now, not to mention months of flirting before that, it brought so much joy to Cas seeing how affected Sam still was by his brother. He never thought he would find happiness like that with someone else; at least his brother had found it.

Cas heard a loud yawn from behind him, turning to follow the sound to its source. Charlie was making her way into the room, clad in a Harry Potter tshirt and Star Wars pajama pants, fiery red hair a tangled mess. She stretched one hand above her head as the other rubbed at her sleep dry eyes. 

“I’m ready. But no more waffles, Gabe. I love sugar as much as the next gal, but the amount of syrup and whipped cream you cover them in is too much.” Charlie dropped down into the seat next to Cas, laying her head on his shoulder softly before reaching for the notepad in front of him. She lazily read the names listed, carrying on with the early morning small talk, everyone sharing their plans for the day.

They eventually all moved into the kitchen, Sam and Gabe making breakfast as Cas and Charlie sat at the table against the wall, drinking deeply from their respective coffee mugs and making snide comments about the insufferability of “the morning people”.

“You went for a  _ run _ before I woke up? Sam, I understand the importance of physical health, even more important for hunters, but 5 in the morning? It was still dark outside!” Cas said with blatant disgust.

Sam laughed loudly, turning to face Cas, “I’ll get you to come with me one of these days.” He turned back to the stovetop, pouring egg whites into the pan in front of him, “I’ve never had a jogging partner before! Dean was-”

Sam cut off abruptly. Castiel could feel everyone looking at him, waiting for a breakdown, a relapse. He would be lying to himself if he said it didn’t hurt to hear his name, that he didn’t feel his heart skip a beat and his breath catch in his throat.

He looked around the room, a sad smile on his face, “I’m fine.”

That was all they needed to hear to return to their morning. Cas was getting better, one day at a time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that has been commenting, subscribing, kudos, all the kind words make my heart full!
> 
> As always a shout out to my lovely beta Katherine, without whom all my work would definitely be not as good. You're the best.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

"Son of a bitch!"

Dean grabbed the lamp nearest him and threw it across the motel room, finding no solace in the sound of destruction. 

"Goddammit!" Dean punched the mirror hanging over the dresser, shattering the glass. He looked at his bleeding knuckles, anger renewed as he saw the skin stitch itself back together. He wanted to bleed. He wanted to  _ hurt.  _

The door flew open, Crowley standing in the entrance, eyebrow raised in mild interest.

"What the bloody hell has your panties in a twist?" Crowley took a step forward, closing the door behind him. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his peacoat and moved to stand closer to Dean, still keeping a measured distance.

Dean whipped around to look at Crowley, eyes solid black, mouth twisted in an angry grimace, a growl building in the back of his throat.

“I want that  _ fucking bitch  _ dead, Crowley!” He moved towards the shorter man aggressively, finger pointing out at him, accusingly, “Tell your lackeys to get their  _ shit  _ together. If we miss her by hours,  _ one more time _ ,” Dean stood over Crowley, menacingly looming. He let the threat hang in the air, heavy and unspoken, before turning back away from him. His shoulders were hunched and tense, his heaving breath visible with every inhale. “I want to  _ end this. _ ”

Crowley didn’t say anything at first, stunned for the first time in a long time...maybe even ever. He looked at Dean, mulling over what he wanted to say.

“Dean, I have eyes and ears everywhere. We just have to stay on her. We keep getting closer, just got to give it some time.” Crowley spoke softly, as if he was talking to a wounded animal. To his favorite hellhound, Juliet. Dean didn’t respond.

“Why don’t you call up that  _ Castiel? _ Haven’t heard about him in a while. Maybe him and Moose have managed to dig up some dirt?” Crowley should have known better than to bring up either one of them. The roar bursting from Dean’s chest was monstrous as he whipped around, fist first, landing a punch, hitting Crowley’s nose with a thick  _ crunch _ . Dean thought to himself briefly that it was  _ almost  _ satisfying enough.

“Don’t fucking say his name. Get the fuck out of here. Don’t come back until you know where the  _ fuck  _ we need to go next,” Dean reached down to grab Crowley by the back of his coat, dragging him out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

Dean leaned back against the shut door, hands rubbing over his face, fingers pulling through his hair. He could feel his forearm burning, the Mark on fire with a demanding thirst for blood. It demanded he hurt, maim, kill,  _ anything. _

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to ignore the blood red behind his eyelids. He slid down the door, knees pulled up to his chest. He felt defeated. He had let the Mark take over again. He always gave in nowadays. He tried to convince himself he was fighting its influence as hard as he could, but he knew he wasn’t anymore. There was only one thing that staved it off, delayed its effects to even the slightest degree.

Dean hadn’t seen Castiel in four months.

Four months since the night they spent together.

And Dean still hadn’t gone a day without thinking about him.

*

_ When Dean slipped out of bed that night, silently made his way out to his car without waking Cas, he hated himself. He couldn’t keep his hand from shaking as he wrote a hurried note, could feel the Mark of Cain pulling him away from the perfect man, soundly asleep in bed and completely unaware of the internal struggle Dean was fighting in that moment. As he slowly pulled the door closed behind him, he allowed himself one more wistful glance back at Castiel, his Angel of Thursday. Part of him knew he would come and save him. It was a small part, but his faith in Cas was there all the same. _

_ * _

Dean moved onto the next town in the direction Abbadon had been heading first thing in the morning. He didn’t bother to wait on Crowley, knowing the royal dick would be able to find him, surely popping up unannounced into the front seat of the Impala with no warning. He felt the energy in the car shift, a subtle breath of the pressure.

“Think of the devil…” Dean whispered under his breath.

“Didn’t quite catch that, dear,” Crowley replied, a sarcastic grin on his face.

“Fuck off, man. Am I heading in the right direction, or not?” Dean’s eyes never strayed from the road.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s keeping on the route we’ve figured. I’ve got a few demons tailing her,” Crowley spoke quickly, as if trying to rush through the update to get to something better, “That’s not why I’m here though, Dean. You know I love when you get all angry and whatnot, but, um... You really might want to think about calling up that boyfriend of yours sometime soon.”

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but Crowley continued before he had a chance, “ _ Not _ for help, just...to blow off some steam. I've introduced you to plenty of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes that you have shut down. You’re... _ pining. _ It’s quite depressing really.” 

Dean rolled his eyes, “ _ Crowley…” _

The King of Hell held up his hands in mock offense, “I just call it like I see it, Dean. Just think about it. Just a...palate cleanser, as it were.” 

Before Dean could respond, Crowley was gone.

*

_ Dean hadn’t picked a direction when he pulled away from the motel. He had tried to choose, absolutely. But his humanity and the Mark weren’t allowing him to make a decision. He flipped a coin. How pathetic is that? _

_ Tails meant left, so he pulled the Impala into the road, getting on the first highway he came across. He felt his arm burning, white knuckle grip on the steering wheel breaking to scratch at his forearm. He could still feel the ache in his ass, feel the layer of sweat still drying on his skin. If he closed his eyes for too long, let his mind wander while listening to Zeppelin playing through the Impala’s speakers, he could see him. _

_ Dark shaggy hair, falling into his eyes, pressed against his neck with sweat, miles of tan, muscled flesh, skin that Dean wanted to touch, to lick, to worship. Electric blue eyes staring down at him, piercing in color and intensity, anger and...something, all in one fierce gaze. Dean had never seen anyone so beautiful. His Angel. _

_ * _

Dean had been driving on the same stretch of highway for too long. His eyes were heavy, exhausted from being on the road for so long. He hadn’t passed an exit in quite some time, so the next sign he saw for a motel, he pulled off, stopping by a gas station for beer, snacks, and to refill the Impala’s tank before checking into the rundown motel right next door. He grabbed his duffel bag from the backseat before walking into the room he had been given. He dropped the bag immediately and fell back onto the bed. He laid like that for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, trying to clear his thoughts, trying desperately to think of anything, anyone but Castiel.

Dean was not successful.

Dean reached into the front pocket of his jeans for his phone. He had long since changed the number, but he couldn’t bring himself to delete the voicemail Castiel had left him. He clicked play on the recording, surely the hundredth time he had listened to it by now, and slowly brought the phone to his ear. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine Cas was here next to him, whispering the urgent vow into his ear. He could almost feel Cas’s lips grazing against his ear lobe. Dean felt a shiver roll through his body, hearing Cas’s voice, imagining him laying next to him, pretending he could feel his body heat pressed up against him again. The voicemail ended.

Dean thought back on Crowley’s words earlier. He hadn’t been doing very good lately. Maybe he should see Cas. He always felt better when he was around Cas. He staved off the Mark’s influence. And maybe he had found something about Abbadon’s whereabouts. Dean knew better than to think Cas had actually stopped looking for her.

Dean sat up, looked down at his phone. He dialed Cas’s number, the ten digits committed to memory at this point. It rang.

He wouldn’t even answer. Surely not, right?

“Hello?”

Dean’s breath caught at the sound of Castiel’s voice. Beautiful.

“Heya, Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://bre95611.tumblr.com/) if you want.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel was sick and tired of dead ends. And that seemed to be all they encountered lately. Over the last six weeks or so, the four of them had interviewed countless retired Men of Letters, folks that had been out of the life for decades by then. Everyone else was dead. They looked into any lead they came across, no matter how insignificant, regardless of how far-fetched it seemed. And they always came up empty-handed. 

After a particularly long and fruitless stretch of being on the road, Cas couldn’t wait to lay down in his room at the bunker. Couldn’t wait to see his brother, Sam, and Charlie for the first time in about a week. He was eager to hear how the bar had been doing and the latest update on the eclectic new tenant renting out their old apartment.

More than anything, he was excited to not be  _ alone _ .

Since he last saw Dean, since he pulled himself out of the depressing fog he fell into, being alone, particularly for long stretches of time, was...hard, to say the least. He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, from wondering what Dean was up to, if he was safe, if he was even  _ alive _ . Somehow, he felt like he would know if something truly bad happened to Dean, but he couldn't be  _ sure. _

As Castiel pulled down the long gravel drive leading to the bunker’s garage, he shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts of anything negative happening to Dean. He couldn’t even begin to explain it, but for the last few days, he hadn’t been able to pull his thoughts away from the other man, as inexplicable as his attraction to him had always been.

Castiel made his way into the bunker, keeping an ear out for signs of life despite the late hour. He should have known that time meant nothing to a group of hunters on a mission. As always, the library was full of life, all three clamoring about, typing on laptops, flipping through books, and discussing their findings. Cas dropped his duffel on the edge of the table and made the rounds with hugs and general pleasantries now that he was home. He updated the group on his findings, or rather the  _ lack _ of findings in the Pacific Northwest.

Then, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

It was a number he didn't recognize, but with the number of cards he had handed out to the people he had been interviewing lately, he knew it would be important to answer. 

"Hello?"

He heard a sharp intake of breath on the line.

"Heya, Cas."

Castiel froze. He saw the concern on Gabe's face as the room fell silent, watching him take a late-night phone call. Instead of answering their questioning faces, he moved into his room.

"Dean," Cas finally exhaled the name like a prayer, latched onto the sound of his voice like a life preserver thrown to him after months at sea. He braced himself on his dresser.

"Where are you?" Cas demanded. 

Dean disappeared the way he did and then calls out of the blue, months later? Cas didn't understand. He heard Dean’s mirthless laughter over the phone, dry and tinny through the receiver.

“Some podunk town outside of Chicago. Are you on the road?” Dean seemed almost nervous to ask.

“I’m at the bunker. Just got back from Seattle,” Castiel spoke gently as if one wrong word would cause Dean to hang up the phone and change numbers again. Castiel couldn't chance that.

Dean hummed over the line, a noncommittal noise. Cas didn't know what to say. There were hundreds of things he  _ wanted _ to say. But he couldn’t.

"Are you alone right now?" Dean asked. Cas felt his skin burning.

"Yes." His response was short and breathy. Dean's voice alone was driving him mad with want, with insatiable  _ need _ . The insinuation of that question took Cas back to the first time they met, to all the other times they'd talked on the phone, Dean's constant attempts to progress from small talk to phone sex. 

"Excellent," Dean's voice was dark and rough with desire, their sexual tension palpable over the line.

Cas swallowed around the rock currently lodged in his throat. His response was breathy and quiet, "Yeah." 

"Perfect," Dean responded, sounding like he was gearing up for something. Castiel used the pause to calm himself, taking deep breaths as he tried to force the images of Dean the last time he saw him from his mind. 

"What do you want, Dean?" The initial shock of Dean's call had finally worn off and was replaced with outrage as Cas reminded himself of what had happened last time he saw Dean, furious he had left the way he did months ago, angry at the audacity of calling and expecting everything to be fine, to be able to pick back up like that night hadn't happened.

Dean laughed darkly, choosing to ignore the bite in Castiel's tone. He knew Dean would respond with some flirtatious quip as he always did. Cas was not putting up with that.

"Don't answer that. What, you want to know what I'm wearing? If I can come meet you? I'm done with that, Dean. You  _ left _ . Goodbye." Cas pulled the phone away from his ear, intending to hang up the call, but he could hear Dean speaking, begging him to wait.

"Cas, please. Please don't hang up. I'm...I'm sorry."

Castiel waited, phone by his ear, giving Dean the chance to respond. He could hear him breathing softly.

"You have thirty seconds to explain, Dean," Cas's voice was barely more than a whisper, emotional tension hanging heavy in the air.

"I shouldn't have left. I should have stayed. I'm sorry," it seemed like it took all the strength Dean possessed to speak, "but I couldn't stay. Don't you see that?"

"No, Dean, I  _ don't.  _ Just come to the bunker. We'll cure you, and then figure this all out. We can fix this." Cas was desperate. If Dean really was sorry, if he truly was regretful about leaving, all he needed to do was come back.

"You know I can't do that, Castiel. The Mark, it’s… it feels like it's getting stronger. I can't fight it much more. I'm dangerous."

Despite his irritation, Cas could feel how distressed Dean was, couldn't begin to imagine what it must be like for him. His anger softened slightly around the edges.

"Why did you call me, Dean?" he asked, still a bit curt but not unkind.

"I missed you. I feel almost like I'm... _ me _ again when I talk to you. When I'm near you."

"Then come back, Dean. I want to help you."

"No," Dean left no room for objection, which only pissed Cas off more.

"Fine! Then I need you to leave me alone. I...I can't do this. Dean, it hurts too much. Knowing I could help, knowing you  _ want  _ me as much as I want you.”

“I do want you, Castiel, I  _ do _ . It’s not really me that can’t stay…”

Cas sighed. “So why the hell are you calling me? You know Gabe said I should hang up on you if you ever called again?”

Dean laughed. “That’s fair.” There was a pause. “Truthfully...I don’t know why I called you. All I know is...I love being around you. I love hearing your voice, I love talking to you. You make me feel  _ human _ . And, right now, I’m not doing such a good job at feeling human.”

This softened Castiel’s edges more than he expected. He knew the Mark was keeping Dean away from him, but he never stopped to consider the consequences of that. Castiel's anger surged again, but it was directed at himself this time, not Dean. Once again, he had been so selfish, only thinking of himself and his happiness and comfort, ignoring Dean's plight altogether.

"I'm so sorry, Dean. I've been selfish."

"It's alright, Cas...I'm sorry, too. I, uh, didn't handle that night that well." Dean laughed, short and hard under his breath.

"For what it's worth, I missed you, too."

"Alright, no chick flick moments, Cas." His tone was light and playful again, reminding Cas so much of the night they stayed up on the phone, like middle schoolers with their first crush. Just like then, Cas felt like he never wanted to hang up the phone.

"Okay, Dean. Promise, no chick flick moments," Cas sat down on his bed, laying back with a smile on his face. They were both silent for a moment, just existing together again, everything seeming to slide back into place.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean broke the silence first.

"Yes?"

"What are you wearing?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading, commenting, and kudos-ing! Warms my heart every time I get an email from AO3.
> 
> Come follow me on [tumblr!](https://bre95611.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello yes it has been awhile, but don't worry! It's the moment you all, well at least Dean, have been waiting for!

"Dean, I just got home." Cas made sure the eye roll was audible in his tone, but he couldn't help but smile to himself. He could hear Dean humming contentedly over the phone pressed against his ear.

"So nothing then? I like it, Cas, diving right into the dirty."

Cas laughed,  _ really  _ laughed, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. God, he had missed Dean. It felt like something, some oppressive weight, had been lifted from his chest. Maybe he should indulge. He should let himself have this, take whatever bit of himself Dean could manage to share.

He stood, placing his phone on the bed. He pulled off his shirt quickly and stripped off his jeans. He could hear Dean's concerned calls, wondering where he had gone. He laid back down, stretching out across his bed as he brought the phone back to his ear.

"Ask me again, Dean," Cas dropped his voice, soft and deep.

Dean didn't understand. 

"Ask me what I'm wearing," Cas practically purred into the reciever. He trailed his fingers over his chest lazily as he waited for Dean to catch up. 

A beat of silence.

" _ Cas…"  _ Dean breathed out, all the lust he felt for Cas tangible in that one syllable. Cas was kind of getting sick of waiting.

"I'm in nothing but my underwear, Dean." He hissed in a breath as his nail caught his nipple, and heard Dean's responding moan, low and dirty and  _ desperate _ . Cas could hear Dean moving over the line, undoubtedly taking off his own clothes as well, now that Cas had confirmed he was down for some fun. His room was far enough away from anywhere Gabe, Sam, or Charlie would be, and he planned on taking full advantage of that fact. He turned on his speakerphone and left it lying by his ear on the pillow. Dragging his nails across his chest and down the inside of his thigh, Cas allowed a moan to spill from his mouth unstifled. He heard Dean's breath catch in his throat, presumably having been listening to Cas as he undressed.

"Don't start without me, Angel." Dean sounded halfway to wrecked already.

"You should hurry up then," Cas's breathing was getting progressively closer to panting with every second he continued to tease himself, "I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands above the waist."

"Fuck, Cas," Dean moaned, "I wanna hear you fall apart. Touch yourself."

Cas obliged wordlessly, pushing his boxers down and kicking them off. Hard and dripping precum onto his stomach, Cas gripped the base of his cock tightly, overwhelmed by the feeling after the lengthy neglect. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last long if he wasn’t careful, but there was no way in Hell he would let himself finish before Dean. Slowly, he began to stroke himself, fist loose around his cock, feather light pressure to help stave off his orgasm. It felt so good.

“Dean,” Cas moaned. His eyes fluttered shut, that perfect shade of green flashing brilliantly behind his eyelids. What he wouldn’t give to see it in person. “Fuck, feels so good.” He could hear Dean’s unsteady breathing, had heard those sounds before and could picture just what Dean must look like in that moment. “I wish I could fucking see you. I bet you look so good right now. Open yourself up for me. You’re going to come on your fingers, begging for it to be my cock.” Cas’s voice was gravel, rough with unbridled desire. He could hear the telltale sound of a bottle of lube opening. “Good boy.”

“Goddammit, Cas.  _ Fuuuck… _ ” Now that was an interesting response, the most responsive Dean had been really since this started. Castiel filed that away for another time, “Want you so bad, Angel.”

“Tell me. Now.” Cas wanted to hear Dean break.

“Fuck, want your mouth. I can’t,  _ mm _ , ever stop thinking about your mouth… think you’d look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” Dean could barely get through a full sentence without breaking off in a moan, overwhelmed. Cas could hear Dean fucking himself, could hear the steady rhythm of his hand. “God, your tongue, ugh, I think about how good it felt in my ass....every goddamn day. Cas, please…” Dean trailed off, quickly losing any semblance of coherency. Cas’s own hand had been moving faster and faster, tightening as he reached the tip. Dean fucking Winchester was going to be the end of him. 

“Please what? What do you want, Dean?” Cas growled out, knew he couldn't last much longer, could hear how close Dean was too.

"Your cock. Cas, I want your cock so bad, want it inside me, want you to fuck me again." Cas heard the steady slap of flesh on flesh, Dean's hand picking up the pace as he fingered himself for Cas. The rhythm faltered, more sporadic than steady, and he heard a guttural moan ripped from Dean's throat, " _ Fuck. _ Gonna come."

"Yeah, yeah, Dean. Come for me." Cas could feel the pressure boiling in his gut.

For as bratty as Dean could be, he followed instructions well.

" _ Castiel!"  _ Dean cried, breathing heavy as he came. Hearing his full name fall from the demon's lips pulled Cas over the edge with him.

" _ Deeeean…"  _ Cas stroked himself through his orgasm, reveling in the feeling of Dean's obedience, covering his stomach and his hand in his spend.

Cas laid there, chest heaving, basking in the post orgasmic bliss. He could hear Dean's deep breaths against his ear, wishing he could feel it, wishing Dean was there with him, but thankful he could at least have this.

They were both quiet for a moment, coming down from the high. Cas picked up the phone and switched off the speaker. He heard Dean whisper his name as he brought it to his ear.

"Yes, Dean?"

"Miss you."

Cas smiled to himself.

"Miss you, too." 

Cas and Dean stayed on the phone in companionable silence for a moment, finding security in hearing the other breathing into the receiver. It had been a while since Cas felt this at peace, this content. They stay up talking for several more hours, like that one night, months ago. It felt like no time had passed as they fell back into their easy flirtations and simple companionship, effortlessly.

They caught each other up on the highlights of the months since they last saw each other. Dean was struggling with his humanity, slipping through his fingers more and more everyday. Cas's entire being was slowly being devoured by his quest to end Abbadon. Dean had information there to share, but for the most part, it was nothing new.

Cas never wanted the call to end.

Somewhere well after midnight, but before the sun began to rise again, Dean and Cas finally ended their call. They had talked at length about Dean's failing humanity, and had a tentative plan to keep it intact as long as possible. Cas felt better than he had in months.

*

"So...who called you last night?"

Cas nearly dropped his mug of coffee at the sound of Charlie's voice. He turned to look at her, standing behind him in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes wide with shock before schooling his look into cool indifference. He hadn't yet decided how best to broach the subject of Dean and his renewed contact with Sam and Gabe yet. Maybe it was a good thing to talk to Charlie about this first. Maybe she would be able to help calm them down when they inevitably lost their collective shit over it.

"It was Dean."

Cas pretended he didn't hear the surprised squeak that slipped past her lips. He took a deep drink of his coffee, looking over the rim of the mug at her, thoroughly unimpressed. Charlie mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. Cas rolled his eyes.

"He has been...struggling lately. The Mark was always intended to be a means to an end, that end being killing Abbadon. If he becomes too far gone to achieve that end, it has all been for naught." Cas eyed Charlie, suspicious that she had stayed quiet as long as she had. When he was certain she wasn't going to speak, Cas continued.

"For...whatever reason…the two of us staying in communication helps stave off the Mark's influence. He may be a demon, but he still mostly has his head on straight. We're hoping to keep it that way until we can apprehend and eliminate Abbadon," Cas finished the remaining dregs of his coffee, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him. He tilted his head, squinting at Charlie. She looked about two seconds from spontaneously combusting. "You may speak, Charlie."

Worst mistake. Ever.

"Ohmygod okay, so, where is he? Is he coming here? Gabe and Sam are gonna flip their shit when you tell them. Are you going to tell them?" She began pacing frantically around the library, "You'd have to tell them. That would be a  _ super _ awkward breakfast. So you two are working together on Abbadon then? Did he have any news? Shit, where has he  _ been  _ for the last 6 months? When do I get to meet him?" Charlie continued. When she finally paused to take a nearly comically large inhale, he watched her eyes go wide, something akin to fear finding its place on her previously excited features.

"Castiel. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Gabe must have overheard enough of the conversation to piece together that Dean was the one that called.

_ Shit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to [me!](https://bre95611.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay its been....a bit. But here I am! With some angst and the last transitional sorta chapter. Hang on to your hats folks, cause its gonna get real after this one. 
> 
> And this one is pretty real already.

Cas and Dean stayed on the phone in companionable silence for a moment, finding security in hearing the other breathing into the receiver. It had been a while since Cas felt this at peace, this content. They stayed up talking for several more hours, like that one night, months ago. It felt like no time had passed as they fell back into their easy flirtations and simple companionship effortlessly.

They caught each other up on the highlights of the months since they last saw each other. Dean was struggling with his humanity, slipping through his fingers more and more everyday. Cas's entire being was slowly being devoured by his quest to end Abbadon. Dean had information there to share, but for the most part, it was nothing new.

Cas never wanted the call to end. But it did end, late, late into the early morning hours. They had a tentative plan to keep in contact as long as possible. Cas felt better than he had in months.

*

"So...who called you last night?"

Cas nearly dropped his mug of coffee at the sound of Charlie's voice. He turned to look at her, standing behind him in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes wide with shock before schooling his look into cool indifference. He hadn't yet decided how best to broach the subject of Dean and his renewed contact with Sam and Gabe yet. Maybe it was a good thing to talk to Charlie about this first. Maybe she would be able to help calm them down when they inevitably lost their collective shit over it.

"It was Dean."

Cas pretended he didn't hear the surprised squeak that slipped past her lips. He took a deep drink of his coffee, looking over the rim of the mug at her, thoroughly unimpressed. Charlie mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. Cas rolled his eyes.

"He has been...struggling lately. The Mark was always intended to be a means to an end, that end being killing Abbadon. If he becomes too far gone to achieve that end, it has all been for naught." Cas eyed Charlie, suspicious that she had stayed quiet as long as she had. When he was certain she wasn't going to speak, Cas continued.

"For...whatever reason…the two of us staying in communication helps stave off the Mark's influence. He may be a demon, but he still mostly has his head on straight. We're hoping to keep it that way until we can apprehend and eliminate Abbadon," Cas finished the remaining dregs of his coffee, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him. He tilted his head, squinting at Charlie. She looked about two seconds from spontaneously combusting. "You may speak, Charlie."

Worst mistake.  _ Ever _ .

" _ Ohmygod _ okay, so, where is he? Is he coming here? Gabe and Sam are gonna  _ flip _ their shit when you tell them. Are you going to tell them?" She began pacing frantically around the library, "You'd have to tell them, that would be a  _ super _ awkward breakfast. So you two are working together on Abbadon then? Did he have any news? Shit, where has he  _ been  _ for the last 6 months? When do I get to meet him?" Charlie continued. When she finally paused to take a comically large inhale, he watched her eyes go wide, something akin to fear finding its place on her previously excited features.

"Castiel. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Gabe must have overheard enough of the conversation to piece together that Dean was the one that called.

_ Shit. _

*

The conversation didn’t go as Cas had hoped. He hadn’t figured out how he was going to tell Gabe, but he knew it wasn’t going to be like  _ that. _ Gabe freaked out, and rightfully so. Castiel couldn’t begin to imagine what it must have been like for Gabe to see how broken he had been, for weeks on end. He knew Gabe was just looking out for him. 

“We can find Abaddon without him, Cas. We don’t need him. Sam and I are on to something; we are so close to knowing how to kill her!” Gabe grabbed him by the collar, shaking him, anger painting his face bright red.

“Gabe, you don’t understand, I can  _ help him. _ I just have to buy him some time.”

“Yeah, and how do you plan on doing that? You know I still get alerts for his car? Every once in a while. He’s getting worse, slaughtering entire towns! He’s only going to hurt you!”

Cas’s placating tone quickly turned rotten, thick with venom. He grabbed Gabe’s wrists, breaking his hold on Cas’s shirt, shoved him back. Cas stalked forward, anger charging the air in the library.

”You  _ knew?  _ You knew where he was, and you didn't tell me? Did you tell Sam?" Cas was livid, spitting every word at his brother, towering over him menacingly. "How  _ dare  _ you make that decision for me. I could have found him months ago! We could have handled  _ all of this _ already!" 

Gabe was effectively cornered, back against the brick wall of the bunker's library, yet he refused to back down. Head high, he held eye contact with his brother. "He  _ destroyed you _ , Castiel. When Dean first laid a hand on you in that church, you were lost. I couldn't watch you go through that again. I won't."

"No, Gabriel! We're not children anymore. You don't get to just... _ toy _ with me like that! You don't get to make decisions for me."

"You were trying to make the  _ wrong decision _ . I was trying to  _ help _ , don't you see? And you're willing to sacrifice yourself for him like this? I won't let you  _ martyr _ yourself just because you fucked around and caught feelings!"

Castiel saw red. He pulled his arm back, punching Gabe with enough force to slam his head back against the bricks. Charlie squealed behind Cas, having completely forgotten there was an audience for their conversation. Cas turned around.

At some point, Sam had come to stand beside Charlie. Her hands were covering her face as Sam wrapped a protective arm around her. Castiel was flustered, sheepish over his violent display. He locked eyes with Sam, saw his pity and worry and fear. He looked back at his brother, back against the wall sitting on the ground, a steady stream of blood dripping through his fingers covering his nose, presumably broken. Cas looked down, inspecting the bloodied knuckles of his right hand, as if unable to believe it was really  _ his _ hands that caused Gabriel harm.

"I'm sorry," he uttered to no one in particular.

The group stayed in silence for a beat longer. Sam moved to help Gabe, walking slowly and cautiously around Cas. Sam gently tapped Gabe's hand, silently prompting him to uncover his nose so he could inspect the damage. Cas winced at the sight of all the blood trickling down his lips.

"Gabe," Sam began, face set in concentration as he looked into his partner's eyes for evidence of a concussion, "what if it were me?”

Gabriel inhaled, sharp and short, “I would move heaven and earth to save you, Sam Winchester." 

Sam leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to Gabe's golden hair. "I know you would. And Cas would do the same for Dean," he looked up at Castiel, still standing in the same spot, "I get it, Cas. You do what you gotta do. Just tell us how we can help." He turned back to Gabe, throwing his arm around his shoulder and heaving him back up to his feet. "Come on, babe, let's get you cleaned up."

"Thanks, Samshine," Gabe said quietly, glancing back at Castiel as they walked out of the library, hard gaze softening. He dipped his head ever so slightly, showing his younger brother that the conversation was decidedly  _ not  _ over, but for now at least, they were okay.

Cas looked to where Charlie had been standing only moments ago. She no doubt sensed the tension in the room, realized Cas would want a moment alone. He was grateful.

Castiel sat at the library table. He took deep, calming breaths.

He had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much to all of you reading this story still. I appreciate every kudos and comment so much. Shoutout to my amazing beta Katherine, who has just worked wonders with every chapter I've picked her brain about.
> 
> Come follow me on [tumblr!](https://bre95611.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for the amazing support the prequel received! This story will not have a posting schedule, but I promise I am ALWAYS working on this story, and will do my best to update in a timely fashion. Feel free to follow me on [tumblr](https://bre95611.tumblr.com/), and scream at me about how its taking too long so I can kick myself in the ass and get back to writing.


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